


Devil In Disguise

by Nevermore9



Category: Lilo & Stitch (2002)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-21 19:27:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3703027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevermore9/pseuds/Nevermore9
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Such a small creature can only have so much control, and Stitch is about to lose it all to one young girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Only The Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> Please enjoy!

The door sharply turned on rusted hinges, a single foot stamping its welcome onto the doormat with a disgruntled huff. From the kitchen, a large rounded ear perked up in confused bewilderment. The old wooden door was then hurled back into place with a slam, sending a rocking tremor throughout the quaint little house. An inquisitive head turned itself abruptly to the point of the unwelcomed disruption, large pitch black bulbous eyes blinking with thin eyelids. The black eyes didn't have to wait long for the imp to reveal itself, as the young girl stood with arms vehemently crossed, at the entryway of the kitchen. She had that certain type of scowl, eyebrows lowered in frustration, mouth upturned in discontent, that just pierced the droopy eyed alien's heart like a needle; and her eyes, her eyes burned like ravenous little coals, adding another hammer blow to the guilt-ridden little creature.  
Stitch hopped down from his place on the tiny stool, set beside the warming oven. He took a circumspect step towards the furious, fire eyed, statue that was Lilo; his sizeable ears now folded behind his head and broad kettle eyes downcast to the floor in sorrowful remorse.  
Feeling her searing gaze on the top of his fur covered head, Stitch shyly lifted his oversized pupils to the lividely rigid form of the grimacing Lilo. Her acidic anger was no conundrum, it was understandable in fact, that was plain from the grass skirt draped snugly around her waist, and the wearied, earth bitten, condition of her bare feet.  
"-S-Sorry…" Those were the only hoarsely strained sounds that the apologetic alien could mutter, but even with the amount of heartfelt potence he gave it, Stitch knew that one word wouldn't be enough for Lilo. She still obstinately held that knifelike glower, her stare seeming to demand an explanation, an excuse. The trouble though, was that Stitch didn't have an explanation, and if he did it wasn't like he could just spit it out. His earth-speak wasn't exactly good, or decent really, and when he did speak any lick of English he had to stress his vocal cords for but a few raspy words. Nevertheless, Stitch knew much too well that Lilo's temper wouldn't be sated without some sort of slim justification as to why she was made to hike home all alone, by herself, from hoola pratice, traipsing through the mud and the dirt, as well as braving the chilling darkness of early night.  
Lilo, arms still intertwined over her chest, hoisted up a dark brow, relaying to the regret filled alien before her that she was waiting for reply, and patiently.  
Stitch bobbed his head side to side as he searched his own thoughts for a Lilo-acceptable statement as to why he hadn't the time to pick her up, or the reason he couldn't be bothered to remember. Suddenly his globe of an eye landed on the oven, and he remembered the lasagna being baked within its blazing belly. "D-Dinner..." was the explanation that Stitch timidly supplied, turning his gaze back to Lilo's bruised feet, not daring to meet those venomous eyes, though keeping a claw pointed to the silently running oven, directing her attention to the idea of food.  
"Where's Nani?" Lilo suddenly questioned in an inquisitive, shaky, tone, trying to hide her newfound desperation while she scanned the proximity of the kitchen as if her sister would suddenly materialize if she searched hard enough.  
The cheerless Stitch felt a twinge of chagrined confusion ping against his skull. Lilo's poignant scorn was so rapidly transformed into dire concern; and peculiar as it was, disappointment was the only tangible emotion that Stitch could feel. The peak of Lilo's wrath died off before it hit the climax, leaving Stitch…dissatisfied? Yes, perhaps that was the word for it, that feeling of longing, oddly wanting more; afterall, he did deserve any scolding cast down upon him. He'd failed his friend, best friend, only friend, and he was more than meritable of any form of punishment Lilo could deal to him.  
"I'm going upstairs." The melancholy words cut through Stitch's self-loathing thoughts, causing him to refocus on the reality of the situation. As he drifted back into realism, Stitch's gaze fell upon the pitiful, slumped over, form of Lilo, joylessly hobbling up the stairs step by step. The thought occured to Stitch that he hadn't answered her question, and desperate to regain her attention he called out to her. Not with words but instead a guttural holler, a hopeless signal that thankfully made the girl take hesitant pause. She lazily turned a pitying face to the slouched alien, those unhappy eyes looking up to her in quivering heartache. It pained Stitch to have Lilo abandoning him like this, neglecting him to go and sulk in her room to the unanswered question that both of them knew the solution to. Stitch could see that deep pool of loneliness in Lilo's gloomy eyes, she was drowning in it, and likewise Stitch too could feel that agony, Lilo's agony. He could sense every little pin of desolation mercilessly stabbed into her being, she was his voodoo doll, what torment was done unto her was done unto him, as if their hearts were bound together with iron string.  
"Dinner..?" The word trailing off into a pleading question, an invitation, a vain hope that whatever was transpiring between them could be mended with a plateful of lazagna. Inevitably it couldn't, a hot meal could nourish physical ailments, but not emotional ones. That was apparant by the rejecting turn of Lilo's head, which buried the blade to the hilt in Stitch's maltreated affection.  
"I'm not hungry." Lilo murmured disheartenedly, reaching the top step before disappearing from view, leaving Stitch broken and deserted.  
The sudden ding of a small clockwork timer rung in Stitch's drooping ears, indicating the readiness of the supper cooking within the oven. Stitch didn't care though, the food could just as well burn for all he minded, and the only reason why he found himself walking to the stove now was because he needed something to stuff in his face so as to make an attempt to take his mind off Lilo.  
Diving into the flaming oven, a muscular blue paw pulled out a scalding metal tray, transporting it across the kitchen and slamming it down on the wooden table with a depressed bitterness. Stitch pressed the tip of his claw into the poorly prepared, hot, gooey, cheesey mess. It was undercooked and the layers were all flip flopped in a chaotic assortment, but Stitch touched the oozing glob to his tongue anyways. He needed desperately to escape, anywhere else but where was, not only bodily but mentally. Scoop after sloppy scoop was carelessly rubbed onto Stitch's slobbering tongue, arm autonomously piling the grubby sludge into his gluttonous mouth. He was hardly aware of the fact that well over half of the sticky cheese and tomato concoction had been consumed by his ravenous bite. His mind wasn't present in his body, it was floating aimlessly through a half-dream, flashing back to that somber, sagging, woebegone face. Stitch would have preferred she keep that scornful scowl on him for the rest of their days than ever be unhappy for more than a second; but what if being angry with him did make her unhappy? Stitch tortured himself with these questions, wondering if Lilo felt as strong of a connection to him, that he did to her.  
Of course she had to, they were locked by the wrists, closer than any two people could be to one another; but he wasn't a person was he. What did that change? What did it add to, or rather take away from? Stitch vainly wracked his brain for some kind of answer, but dug up nothing except emptiness. Why was he even feeling this way? Why now? He supposed it had always been at the back of his mind, just waiting to surface when the right trigger was struck. He kept replaying that scene of Lilo's fiery glare, over and over in his head, and…a song?  
Yes, it was a song, a heartsick, mellow, melody dancing through the air; serving to awaken Stitch from his hypnotic trance. His orb-like eyes fluttered, willing back awareness of the surrounding kitchen, bathed in the shadows of matured twilight. "Dum-dum-dum-dumdy-doo-wah." The lyrics flooded his senses with an atmosphere of lonesome yearning, striking an akin cord within Stitch. "Know the way I feel tonight." The next verse sang, resonating throughout the house in a crisp, ripe, old tune that could only be achieved by the record player upstairs.  
Stitch sat stone still, petrified with that calmly compassionate voice resounding from the floor above him. It sang with such a heartbreak that seemed to carry an air of familiarity with Stitch, unbottling all those same emotions he had half buried with the lazagna, that now coated the majority of his brooding face. The next stanza of the melancholy ballad started and Stitch suddenly found himself peering up that tall dark staircase, each flowing line enticing him to take another step. "But only the lonely-Know why-I cry-Only the lonely." With each word he grew nearer to that dim light at the top of the staircase. Then at the last "dumdy-doo-wah" Stitch discovered that he was staring into that cozy rounded room that he called his and she called her's.  
Lilo was strewn out on the top bunk of their bed, silently lip-syncing to the solemn song, her gaze fixed to the bare, white, ceiling. Stitch stood unnoticed in the doorway, watching Lilo's grievous state from the shadows. He couldn't help but feel somewhat liable for her sorry mood, in fact very much liable. Guilt clawed at Stitch's core like a feral animal, he didn't think he had the audacity, nor the right, to face her now. Somehow though, he scarcely managed to muster his courage from every fiber of his mixed anatomy, and after using his broad tongue to clean the cheesey gunk from his fur, he stepped forward, revealing himself.  
Lilo hardly seemed to acknowledge Stitch's presence, he was deathfully afraid that Lilo's anger lead her to avoiding him, but then to his anxious relief she turned her head to him.  
She exhaled a heavy sigh at sight of him. "Stitch, go away." She muttered dismissively, turning back to whatever was so captivating about that blank ceiling. Stitch's face contorted into bitter rejection, but he didn't go away. He was persistant in his tender affection, he wanted to repent for what he had done, he wanted Lilo to forgive him, hold him, and he'd do anything just to know that she still cared for him.  
"Stitch..sorry…" He whispered sympathetically, moving closer to the base of the bed. "So sorry.."  
Lilo sat up in the top bunk, looking over to the sorrow filled, remorseful, Stitch with a twinge in her heart. She felt touched by the severe and genuine friendship that Stitch had for her, they had for eachother. "Stitch…" she spoke out through quivering lips, and she could have burst into tears right then, but managed to keep composed. "I'm not mad at you." She said wholeheartedly. "I'm mad at Nani." And then the bitterness was back in her tone, but only for a split second before turning back to Stitch, who was deeply moved by her assurance that their love was still shared between them. So moved that he actually felt a tear roll down his fluffy cheek. He wasn't embarassed by his crying, he knew he could express himself without fear while around Lilo, and sat down on the bottom bunk to let the wave of emotions pass over him.  
As quickly as the alien had fallen onto the bed, Lilo had descended from her place at the top bunk and moved down to comfort Stitch. Her arm around his shoulder, pressing their heads together as if to send some telepathic communication that everything was ok. Stitch ran his tongue over his rounded nose, licking up any snot that dribbled down from his nostrils, as he was soothed by Lilo's comforting tenderness. The question remained though, why was Lilo mad at Nani; but then again he supposed he did know the reason. Lonliness. Nani was always busying away at work, tirelessly toiling to support her sister and Stitch; and then if she wasn't working she was with David. But what about him? Stitch was always there with her, taking care of her, her taking care of him. Then his mind turned to the incident that caused so much guilt, he hadn't been there for her then, and he knew that wasn't the only time.  
Stitch's self-hating thoughts were then interrupted by the closing words "If your lonely heart breaks-Only the lonely" sung out as the song ended. There was break in the melody of the music, a quiet silence before the record continued and Roy Orbison skipped to "Dream Lover." The calm upbeat beginning tune served to lighten Stitch's demeanor, his mouth upcurling into a faint smile. "Stitch likes…this song." He said aloud, wanting to cheer the mood away from the thick cloud of sorrow that hung over each of them.  
Lilo couldn't help but placidly grin at his cutesy statement, hopping abruptly to her feet as the rhythm took over her body. "Dance with me then."  
The unexpectedness of Lilo's impulsive request caught Stitch off guard, he twiddled his claws together timidly, unsure, fearful. He thought himself foolish for being so anxious over a little dance, what could go wrong with such a simplistic action; though Stitch was more so troubled by what could go right, too right.  
It seemed Stitch didn't have much choice in the matter however, as Lilo's dominating gaze was magnetizing his own to greet her's, like the curtsey before the waltz. She held out a pleading hand to the self-torturing alien on the bed, a tempting invitation, even greater a temptation with the fact he knew that in a single motion he could be embraced by those welcoming arms. Despite Stitch's conflictions, Lilo had a way of attaining what she desired through sheer stubborness; and Stitch, being Stitch, had a way of melting into Lilo's hands. So reluctantly the blue alien gave her his nervous paw, and Lilo boosted Stitch to his hindlegs, drawing their bodies paper thin to one another. Her hand clasped tightly to Stitch's paw, suspending their locked arms in the air while Lilo guided Stitch's adjacent paw to grip lightly on her waist, before moving her left hand around the back of his shoulders. They were in a perfect closed position, noses just skimming the other's. Lilo could feel Stitch's hot ragged breath on her face, feel his coarse fur around her smooth skin. Passionate lyrics hummed out of the record player, as if to illustrate the scene the duo appeared to be playing out.  
"With a love, oh, so true-And the hand that I can hold-To feel you near as I grow old." The words fluttered around the two, a part of the noiseless ball, as Lilo pushed forward, Stitch in turn stumbling back on clumsy feet, leading to the beggining of their awkward tango. Lilo articulately twirled the both of them about in a wavy circle, playing the lead for Stitch as he tried his best to follow her ushering movements. He turned his head to her feet, then up to face her eyes, and back down to her graceful feet, attempting to match every little turn and twist; but instead Stitch's maneuvers presented to be floundering and amateurish.  
Lilo didn't complain though, not even when Stitch's bulky feet stepped onto her own, she was utterly absorbed in the fluffy creature whom she kept locked in her cage of a heart as her nearest friend. With every fluent footstep the dance grew in intensity, Stitch quickly learning to duplicate each motion Lilo carried out. Both Stitch and Lilo had every drop of their concentration engrossed in one another as they wheeled throughout the curved room, like figures in a music box, their thoughts blended into one mind, their rotating forms melded into a single individual.  
The building music echoing around the duet hit its peak with a highly sung "'Cause I want-" and decended into a "yeah-yeah, yeah" and the song continued into a closing as the pair held tightly together, the world bursting into ash being the only thing that could seperate them now. After the voice of Bobby Darin faded out into final note, Lilo pulled away without the faintest trace of a grin, breaking the connecting cord from the once enamored pair. She removed the needle from the spinning record, that static falling from the air, and then darted back across the room, scaling the small ladder to the top bunk, diving into her bedsheets, and flicking the light switch with a rushed "Good night, Stitch." Leaving the disoriented little fellow in the pale darkness.  
Her retreat took effect so instantaneously that Stitch could barely comprehend it, just remain there, cow-like ears sinking downwards, wondering what he did wrong. That guilt and self-hatred was clawing its way back up his spine, numbing his nerves, his face sagging pitifully as that chill stabbed into chest; and it would have punctured his heart but found it absent. He was empty now, Stitch had died in Lilo's warm embrace, her dark hair falling beautifully around her shoulders, gentil face up against his own; and he was left empty after, a hollow sorry husk…all alone.


	2. All Shook Up

The cooling breeze of Hawaiian twilight enveloped Stitch's rounded face like a soft and downy veil. The purple expanse of endless, infinite, sky glimmered with the shine of encrusted jewels. The dark shadows of palm trees, before the alien, danced and twined with a liveliness that almost surprised Stitch. The air was calming, and the sounds of night were relatively quiet for all the frogs, bats, and various insects that were accustomed to making their presence know in the moist evening. Stitch, however, wasn't focused on any of his natural surroundings, not the sounds, nor the sight, nor the senses. No, to Stitch all the winds whispered to him one thing, the critters chirped only a single word, the sky was peppered with a name.   
"Lilo." He found himself muttering out the single, enthralling, most comforting sound his vocal cords could stretch out; while around him all the forces of the earth blared in his fleshy ear the name. Lilo, Lilo, Lilo! That simple, yet elegantly delighful, cluster of letters was all that filled his mind, and he was overflowing. Lilo, the name was in her long black hair, that shook like dark waves against a caramel shore. Her smooth skin, a perfection of sun-kissed radiance, with a trace of rosy pink petals set on her cheeks. It was in her moonset eyes, that seemed to never shine enough on his blue furred features; it was in the fragility of her quirky smile, and fire of her scowl. In the rhythm of her swaying hips as she gyrated the hula, and in the solitude of her palm when she clasped his hand in hers.  
Stitch bent himself over the railing of the balcony overlooking dense jungle, and his stomach wretched, a flittering feeling in his chest. His belly lurched, wanting desperately to vomit, but Stitch tried to keep the liquid anxiety from escaping his body. His own mind though appeared to be against him, as no matter how tightly he squeezed his jaw, and how strangely his face contorted in strain to hold in his internal shame, the poor creature's muscles gave way and he sank over the rail like a folded napkin. A terrible swelling built up in Stitch's dried throat, before his wells of eyes shut close and an acidic taste scorched past his tongue and rained downward onto crippling leaves. A pitiful growl came from the hunched alien, while cheesey, half digested, remnants of the night's lazagna found itself staining oval teeth, and splattering into puddles of damp earth.   
A groaning tinge of pain drilled in Stitch's gut as he tumbled back, plopping down on his rear, with dots of his dissolved dinner drooling down his chin. The alien let his head lean back into the wooden deck, his face turned to the handsome stars, but he didn't really see them. Lilo, he was still longing for her, despite his just throwing up. He just couldn't shake her from his mind, he wished then, to all the stars above him, that he could expel these feelings, these thoughts, the way his chest throbbed and his head grew faint whenever he was close to her, like the vomit he had just regurgitated. It wasn't that simple though, and no matter how many twinkling gems filled the night sky he couldn't rid himself of those burning fantasies. Knowing she was only in the other room over dug into Stitch's flesh incessantly, she was sleeping cozily atop their bunk bed, without him.   
Stitch sat up abruptly, a sour snarl as his expression. He sank a bitter claw into the floorboard, a sense of rejection occupying his mood. He couldn't explain the emotions whirlwinding about in his furry blue chest; but that didn't mean he did not feel the pain, excitement, anger, and energy of every single one.   
"626!?" The heavily accented voice bellowed out of thick belly, bouncing on every sound from the wide mouth set on the alien's watermelon-shaped head.   
Stitch snapped a curiously surprised glance to Jumba, his eyes questioning his presence before the pot-bellied alien could form the words to say so himself.   
"Oh, me?" Jumba chuckled guiltily as he waddled up the steps, toward his little creation. "I was just out for a midnight stroll." He flashed a gaping, crooked tooth, grin, in menacing reassurance. Though it soon fizzled away once he was met Stitch's disbelieving glare.   
"Well…" He drew out, with a scratch down the back of his neck. "I could have stumbled on evil ingredients, for evil experiment." He cackled at the thought of wide-spread destruction that found its way into his head at the mere mention of "evil".   
"Only problem, they need tool to be extracted, very delicate." Jumba concluded with a nod, his four eyes directed toward the doorway just in front of them, something in one of those many kitchen drawers could be useful; but Jumba's look then fell to his unhappy creation sitting there glumy. Something tugged at him then, and he cursed himself over a thousand times as he hesitantly bent down to the smaller alien's level, losing the battle against himself.   
"Something troubles you, 626?"   
Stitch looked to his towering creator with drooping eyes. He simply nodded to acknowledge his sadness, before uttering out. "L-Lilo."   
"Something wrong with little girl?" Jumba cut off, worry climbing up his throat.  
Stitch shook his head. "Lilo in Stitch's head."   
Jumba's four eyes went wide with understanding, giant jaws mouthing an "oh". The evil genius rose to his feet, gaze still fixed to the sorry blue creature. "I'm afraid, not much I can do." He said shakily, with a roll of his shoulders. Jumba had already started for the door, reaching for the handle. When he turned an eye back to fuzzy creation, crumpled over in despair, a pitiful trait to him. Jumba grit his with a furious sigh, cursing his emotions.   
He turned to face to Stitch once more, calling back to him. "Well, perhaps there is, something, I can do, 626. Give Jumba time though." He finished his half promise, and with that retreated to the house with a relief that he spied Stitch cracking a assuaged little smile. His creation was a little less sad.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Lilo&Stitch. The songs used are "Only the lonely" by Roy Orbison, and "Dream lover" by Bobby Darin.


End file.
